Fortune's Cookie
by egochan
Summary: This is a fic on the great ploy that is fortune cookies. It is also another shameless Ryuuji fic by me wanting to become a multichapter Seto x Ryuuji. Current Status: Oneshot, Intro


**Disclaimer:** Ego-chan is too poor to own Yu-Gi-Oh. If she did, all her textbooks would have been spanking new this year due to shared profit in that Yu-Gi-Oh!Movie. ::holds up used textbook and watches it crumble to dust in her hands from the acids of alien fingers and sneezes:: I am sure I am sharing in a great tradition here, but it would be nice to be able to afford something that is GUARANTEED 100 to have all the necessary pages still intact and considerably more sanitized.... ::looks nervously at Roberto Eco:: Man, I will never turn pages with the aide of tongue moistened fingers again. There could be germs or POSION.

::yawns, stretches, hears a crash, and looks at her smattered laptop she just mentally murdered five million time:: Shiiiit....

This fic is dedicated to a special person I know who loves singing romance songs in Mandarin via karaoke. They have convinced me that Chinese mini malls are just as great as Japanese mini malls. XD You don't know this person, I do, and they better appreciate my effort or they shall DIIIIE! ::insane laughter from the stress of writing:: I put myself through Hell. Writing is boring. XP I'm going to work on my homework from now on when I cannot sleep. Maybe some sanity will sneak up on me while I'm so focussed in deciphering my beautifully illegible class notes?

**Notes:** Fic is in the future, AU--ya know, all that nice stuff. It is also too loooong. And be warned, my character's dialogue is...shit. Not THE Shit, just...shit. ::humbles:: Please forgive me? I do not try hard, but I try mostly. I'm wanting and needing sleeeeeep.... ::crashes into all of the physical sciences she has ever learned and goes comatose:: Mou.... v.v"

**WARNING, THIS FIC HAS NOT BEEN BETA-READ!!!!** It _has_ been spell checked and read over a few times, so the errors are not too severe...I hope.

--Fortune's Cookie--

The convention hall was packed with people Ryuuji didn't know or understand. He nodded along in a mental haze as presentations played out uneventfully before him and the rest of the captive audience. He was tired and eight hours behind, even after two days of getting use to the exciting new time zone. If he had been told any day that he was going to be kidnapped and tied to a chair to hear out a succession of tedious lectures, Ryuuji would have panicked and booked the earliest flight to Singapore. It was ironic how he had so willingly plunged into a similar situation and kept to his chair without any physical form of restraint.

Ryuuji stifled his twentieth yawn in the thirty minutes he'd been sitting down. A man was talking loudly and walking up and down the box of floor space he'd been allowed to dominate for his presentation. His arms were moving about energetically and he was taking questions from the audience with an unnerving enthusiasm. Brilliant, whitened teeth flashed smugly with each word, making it impossible for Ryuuji to focus on what was being explained. Over his head, a familiar voice was rapidly translating the speaking man's newscaster toned English into easy Japanese. Ryuuji was finding it difficult to focus on either.

Ryuuji rubbed his forehead tiredly and watched the man booming a reply to a small American woman's question. The translator wasn't near as enthusiastic with explaining the company's ten year plan--an unintentional contradiction Ryuuji found hilarious--and only raised his voice to be heard over the deep bass. Ryuuji gave a small smirk to the short man whose cognitive skills with language had him well defeated. Bakura Ryou had always been planning on leaving Japan since Ryuuji had ever bothered to ask him about it, so he had obviously paid much more attention in high school and afterwards. That was why he spoke impeccable English and translated for Ryuuji, who only remembered enough to get by. According to Ryou, the pay wasn't that amazing, but it helped him afford some extra schooling. Ryou was going to be an artist someday. Ryuuji was already a happily paid CEO. As far as he cared, things worked out wonderfully for the both of them.

Ryuuji caught Ryou's eye, but Ryou skillfully ignored him and waited patiently for someone to change Spanish to English. He cycled the question into Japanese for Ryuuji and the rest of the Domino/Tokyo group without acknowledging his friend's attempt at a halfhearted grin of camaraderie. Ryuuji was irritated, but let it pass. Ryou was busy keeping up with the quick Q&A, something his friend and employer excelled at paying minimal attention to. If he had truly cared about what was being said, he would have been motivated to listen to Ryou like the rest of the group. It helped greatly that he knew should his lack of concern prove to hamper his success, he could always ask Ryou, who had considered and recited every word of the proceedings very well. In fact, Ryuuji was planning on paying Ryou to summarize everything for him to save time. If Ryou's typing skills had been worth anything, he would have been forced to transcriptions since the beginning. Of course, then no one would have been obliged to tip him afterwards, and Ryou never had anything bad to say about tips.

"There will be a twenty-minute break period. Refreshments are in the main hall. When you come back, we will discus new up-and-coming gaming corporation, Black Clown."

Everyone filed out of the room at this announcement and Ryuuji hurried to snatch Ryou away from a promising conversation with two employees of the illustrious Kaiba Corporation Tokyo offices. Ryou was shaking his head as Ryuuji consulted him again on the age old question of his English competence.

"Listen Ryuuji, no one expects you to have really good English. Why, you're Japanese! You rarely deal with your American affiliates personally. You're perfectly fine with your 'engrish' skills."

In a way, Ryou was mocking him, but Ryuuji ignored it. The short man was only making light of a sad truth. "What if I don't get my point across coherently?"

Ryuuji's serious tone reduced Ryou to a half-hearted shrug as he tried to match the mood. "You did fine marketing your new Dueling Dice Monster Challenge Extreme (the official abbreviation always escapes me, so don't bother to correct it) in that Hong Kong mall. You recited your English very well, and very clear."

Ryuuji shook his head. "I hardly knew what I was saying. People weren't giving me so many questions, either."

"Then have someone else give the presentation today, if you're suddenly so bothered by proficiency," Ryou offered reasonably. "I'll cover for you easily, since you enjoy talking about your business on the plane flights. I'm perfectly biased. I've heard all the good points of Black Clown, and I watched you speak at that conference in Tokyo. You explained things very well in Japanese."

"No, people expect me to speak English to them in fifteen minutes."

"If you don't try, then nothing bad can come out of it. I could translate."

"Everything bad can come out of this, Mahout." (1)

Ryou had to laugh. The hopelessness of his friend was amusing when riffed with his odd wit. Ryou was grinning.

"Lighten up and decide already. You have thirteen minutes."

"I'm trying to choose the best, more sensible way to do this."

"With irrational worries? You're acting like a freshman who has to recite that terrible French literature when you cannot pronounce half the words--and do not want to recite the passage anyway, since it is full of obscene things you would never have a desire to say out loud, much less before fifteen people and an old woman who simply worships such readings." (2)

"I assume you were blessed with that experience?" Ryuuji asked flatly into Ryou's empathetic description.

"I almost died. _Almost_. So, believe me, this isn't going to kill you. You are only gladly pointing out the greatness that is your company and your invention. If it helps, smile and nod a lot."

Ryuuji brushed his hair out of his eyes distractedly and scowled at the last hint. "Why?"

"I dunno. It worked for me when I first moved to America with my ugly English."

"But you always smile and nod. You're also too polite." Ryuuji pointed the fact out rudely, but Ryou was not affected.

"And have you ever worried about that I many not understand what was being said?"

Ryuuji face went blank. "Well, I'm going to now..." he started, looking at Ryou suspiciously. His moment of realization was cut short, however, by someone tapping his shoulder and asking if he wanted to prepare his company's presentation now. Ryuuji dragged his tired language crutch behind him as he set up a quick computer slide show for the projection screen.

"Wow, and I thought Kaiba Corporation was the only group allowed to use computers," Ryou observed with a grin as Ryuuji cruised around the desktop with the tips of his fingers. "Your company is more hi-tech then I assumed."

"I do hope you're kidding, Mahout."

"Of course. But, I still want to know how you're going to do this presentation on the human level."

"Are you hoping I make you do everything and then pay you a nice bonus?" Ryuuji asked with a smirk. Ryou turned red and ducked, embarrassed Ryuuji would even say such a thing.

"How can you think that?" the smaller man asked in shock. "It just bothers me that you have five minutes until go and no conclusion."

"Yeah, I'm aware of the problem. The computer will do most of the talking with nice flashy pictures and bright colours. There's an American spokesperson on the clips, and she explaining everything."

"Is she the same woman from your English job recruit tapes?"

"Yes, they were all shot the same week. She's one of the American secretaries, and people like watching her."

Ryou laughed knowingly before the door opened and the same man who'd employed himself to chirping out how much time was left until the break ended stuck his head in again and asked if they were ready. Ryuuji nodded without looking up and gestured for the man to leave. Ryou watched him uncertainly as the door closed and the man went to lasso and drag in the pitiful audience.

"Ano...."

"Don't worry, just translate what I say. I'll let you know."

Ryou's eyes held a blatantly disbelieving expression. He looked ready to say something, but several people had found their way into the room again with staggered steps and drooping faces. Some looked at the electronics in a mild sense of interest before recognizing the point and staking a chair in the darkest corner.

"Otogi-kun, not everything works out when done so last minute," he hissed over the computer screen.

"You're blocking the projector, Mahout."

Ryou resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation as he grabbed a chair and situated it near the white screen. He stood next to Ryuuji with his hands unprofessionally in his pockets as he waited for the audience to file in.

"Okay, Mahout, lets not treat this like I'm some idiot who doesn't know a particle of English. As far as they care, we both know everything about Black Clown--that you're some associate. Only, have me confer before you answer any questions, fine?"

"I'm not going to do all the talking, am I?"

"Most of it. Quick, smile at everyone! We have to introduce this damn thing."

Ryou's eyebrow rose skeptically, but he faced the businessmen and businesswoman with a bright smile as demanded. Ryuuji applied himself to becoming his most charismatic and began the well-rehearsed English introduction of himself, his company, and a spontaneous note on what the hell the translator was doing on stage with him (where he purposely jumbled his English so that no one was really certain what the smaller man had to do with Black Clown and only had to accept it and watch the clips). Ryuuji cued the film to begin and sat down to wait it out. Ryou looked for another chair before deciding it was easier to just sit on the floor for a bit instead of fighting Ryuuji for the seat he'd stolen.

The audience watched the informative clips quietly. Ryuuji knew it was a little pretentious of him to have arranged such a thing, but he'd figured it was damn convenient. Usually only Kaiba Corporation got away with mini films, since Kaiba Seto wasn't exactly the person you wanted to asked questions of...and that being when he even bothered to stand in front of people. He had several employees willing to represent his company personally. Actually, he never really had to leave his headquarters in Domino City.

Ryuuji suddenly noticed due to his chain of thought that Kaiba Seto was, in fact, in the audience. Not only that, but alongside his usual irritation and aloofness, he was looking incredibly bored.

"Bakayarou."

Ryou looked up curiously at his friend's outburst. "Nani?"

"Kaiba Seto must have nothing better to do then show up here. I thought he sent those representatives you were talking with earlier."

"He did, they wanted me to talk with him about something. I knew he was here."

Ryuuji glared in his mild confusion. "Why, though? He never shows up for these things."

"Maybe you're right that he has nothing better to do."

"I wasn't being serious."

Ryou nodded faintly and looked at the audience, pausing for a moment on the man whose presence had so bothered Ryuuji. "Don't take it personally. Kaiba-kun has all the right to be here as you."

"I'm not an idiot, Mahout."

"I wasn't saying that you were."

"It was implied."

"Yeah, well, if you imagined so much...."

The other man's words would have been more offensive if Ryou hasn't been laughing through them. Ryou had the ability to say something that would often mean serious insult and get off well enough do to an almost total lack of sincerity on his part. Ryuuji didn't know if it was because Ryou was incapable of any serious transgression, or because it was the only way he'd discovered to express what he thought without suffering the unbearable consequences from having an opinion.

"The film is almost finished," Ryuuji said off the topic of Kaiba Seto.

"The other videos were longer."

"How long do you really want to be here?"

"Oh, just long enough to motivate people into believing in the wonderful promise of Black Clown for the future of the international gaming industry."

Ryuuji grinned as the beautiful woman on the projection described the last few charts and graphs. "I would've appreciated that if you had meant it, Mahout."

"I did," Ryou said blankly while watching the screen flashing the Black Clown logo. Ryuuji wasn't entirely sure if the man was still keeping track of the conversation. He seemed to have left.

"If that's the case, you'll have no problem being the first to speak."

"Of course," Ryou said, sure of himself. Ryuuji had expected him to be at least a little annoyed, but Ryou had built up a tolerance to him through his natural sense of optimism.

"You better hope you say nice things about me."

Ryou gave him a victory sign. "Why would I do otherwise?" he asked with a mischievous grin before turning to the audience.

---oooooooooooooo---

"I swear you got more questions than me. People were vying for your attention like mad. Good thing I was there, or you would've ended up stealing the company."

Ryou laughed as he turned on the light. "Maybe your English is worse than we thought?"

Ryuuji grinned and dropped the take-out dinner on the table before heading towards a mirror to straighten his windblown hair. Part of him found it hilarious that Ryou had been forced to talk so much after the presentation. Another part was frustrated with being partially ignored. The optimistic side was that it seemed people had taken an interest in his company, but Ryuuji wasn't one to focus on optimism when his image was challenged. He was more for appearances, and Ryou had momentarily infringed on his position of dominance. Everyone, when given an option to choose between the CEO and his associate, was to naturally choose the CEO since it was more logical.

But, then, the audience had consisted mainly of Americans, and since when were your standard Americans logical? They had probably chosen the man who spoke better English, connecting competence in language with competence in just about everything else. Kaiba Seto had set the bar years before with his flawless versatility in not only English and Japanese, but also Mandarin and a very good grasp on Spanish. The American corporation leaders and their subsidiaries had grown noticeably biased from this, which was why Ryuuji was not fond of coming to America alone. He didn't appreciate feeling below anyone due to something as emendable as a language barrier. It wasn't like there was an ominous mass shortage of translators.

"You know, I'm sick of this Chinese food, Otogi-kun. Tomorrow, I want to pick dinner," Ryou complained while pressing his chopsticks out of their cellophane wrapper and cautiously opening a random carton.

"As long as I'm buying dinner we'll get Chinese."

Ryou frowned at the contents of the carton and shook his head. "But I don't like rice."

"Then eat around it."

"That's wasteful and too much effort."

"Pick your poison."

Ryou continued shaking his head slowly and began to eat. Ryuuji went back to fixing his hair.

"I think today's presentation was rather successful. You should consider that convention in San Francisco. I mean, I know Black Clown already has some prime real estate on the floor, but you could go to have a say in things. I apologise for what I said earlier, you are frighteningly good at accomplishing things last minute."

Ryuuji smirked at Ryou, who, with a wad of overcooked noodles dripping unnoticed onto his shirt, didn't exactly appear the epitome of intelligence to be making such observations.

"Fine, I agree with you, but only because I'm a very self-concerned person who loves praise."

Ryou shook his head hopelessly. "I don't give out compliments to boost your ego, that's just the added bonus for you."

"But you are never entirely negative. You praise often," Ryuuji reproved with a triumphant smirk at his friend's error.

"No," Ryou said in a more level tone, "I think you confuse praise and encouragement."

Ryuuji shrugged. "That, or we have totally different ideas of the two."

"You're just too full of yourself to notice a difference."

"Okay, now you're just being mean, Bakura-kun."

Ryou smiled and began on his noodles again. He laughed suddenly and tossed a cellophane package at Ryuuji. The other man caught it and frowned.

"Fortune cookie!" Ryou cheered. Ryuuji always made sure everyone knew what a ploy the crunchy cookies were, so it had become a habit of Yuugi-tachi to torment him with them. Ryou was no exception.

"You are a terrible person, Mahout."

"Hurry and open, you must surely wish to know your fortune, ne? Even bad news is good news; it is better than knowing nothing."

"Thanks, Confucius. That's stupid."

Ryuuji nodded, trying to appear serious despite the small smile giving him away, "Well, it's not like you can read the cookie anyway. It's English."

"I can read a cookie, baka. They are not very profound."

"I can read it for you. How about I open my cookie first? Who knows, maybe I'm going to be rich or lucky in the near future."

"I can see it now," Ryuuji said in mock wistfulness, "'The chow mien smiles on you, you will get laid well and often.'"

Ryou made a face at this and broke the cookie in half. He looked up at Ryuuji after he read the fortune and shook his head. "Sorry, Otogi-kun, no such luck for me in my sex life. It says, 'Your wisdom will find a way.' Of course, since I'm not exactly sure _what_ that pertains to, maybe I will wise my way into your profane idea of 'getting laid well and often'--are you sending me back to New Orleans?"

Ryuuji slapped Ryou in the back of the head, "Pervert! You've been in America too long. Yuugi-tachi will never recognize you now. You've been immersed in the obnoxious culture. I feel sorry for you. Do you find you're thinking slower than before, when you lived a more sane life in Domino?"

Ryou rubbed the back of his head. "That hurt. Open your cookie. I don't want you to be laughing at me alone."

"Fine," Ryuuji caved, smashing the cookie and pouring the shards onto the table. He picked up the slip of paper and held it to the light.

"Hm, 'Take the positive approach.' ...Fuck that."

"Ha, my wisdom has 'found its way' into a fortune cookie! There go my chances of world domination. Oh well...." Ryou sighed and shrugged his shoulders, accepting defeat.

"Have you always been such a psycho? I'll hit you again."

Ryou ducked and covered his head. "Don't. I'm fragile."

"Really? Then who beat you up and abducted your sanity?"

"Starbucks. Mocha is the true evil."

Ryuuji blinked, remembering Ryou's complaining the day before in the coffee house line that he had never been addicted to anything until he moved to America. "You're like a crazy American. You're scaring me. What happened to the quiet, innocent Bakura Ryou we all used to know and love?"

"He graduated high school and went on to college, where he died during the midterm. What was left flew to Virginia, dropped out of school, and eventually wandered off to New Orleans and soaked up some local culture."

"Are people there insane?"

"It depends." Ryou said, becoming serious, "They are loud, if that is your equivalent to insane. Otherwise, I see them as perfectly normal."

Ryuuji shook his head. What Ryou had come to accept as normal was different from what it used to be. But then, Western ideas were very contagious, especially when one desired to succeed. Ryou wasn't alone in his development. He and his father had always seemed a bit odd to Ryuuji to begin with, so there was no point in being surprised. Intelligent people were strange; Ryou, despite his embarrassed denial of the fact, happened to be a very intelligent person. Of course, he was not nearly as terrible as Kaiba Seto, who still found the impulse to fly all the way to New York for a convention he could just as easily send his subordinates to instead.

"Well, it is more reasonable to believe there is nothing normal, so I'll stop basing my questions on age old prejudice. I'm just bias towards what I'm used to."

"Everyone is."

"Even you, and your insane American friends?"

"Is that implying you don't accept change?"

"I embrace change."

"Then we only are accepting change, making us seemed unbiased. After an extent, however, we can be just as bad as some unbending and selfish child."

"You think too much."

Ryou gave another victory sign. "Psychology and Philosophy were easy A's."

"I can't believe you profit from being lazy. Apparently I work too hard at sounding like I've at least received an elementary education. I should've taken easy classes and then define people's minds for them--a trick great at parties and all gala events."

Ryou grinned at Ryuuji's sarcasm and handed him a random carton. "It'd be better if I were paid for it. Otherwise, I'm forced to believe it is useless knowledge. No knowledge should be called useless, but that much comes close."

"Face it," Ryuuji said, sitting across from Ryou and directly under the lamp. In Ryou's eyes, the yellow light made the food in Ryuuji's chopsticks appear even slimier. Ryuuji remained unaffected, however, clearing his chopsticks before waving them as tactical weapons for emphasis. "You are never going to use such facts for any purposed besides irritating and entertaining people. It is, as you say 'useless knowledge.' See? Or, it could be 'amateur social knowledge' that you flaunt to look intellectual, which is really more annoying than anything else."

"My excuse is I've not finished college."

"Your excuse is bad. You're just lazy. Remember all those scholarships? You had things cheap."

Ryou got quiet suddenly, not liking the new topic. "Excuse me," he said, standing up and walking to the bathroom.

"You're avoiding the point."

"I need to go to the bathroom." Ryou corrected, closing the door and turning on the tap.

Ryuuji sighed and put the carton of stir-fry down. He wasn't hungry anymore and allowed his mind to be taken over by a more pensive mode. But, despite the philosophical mood, his thoughts remained blank. It wasn't long before he had his computer out and ready for scheduling. He distracted himself with the events upcoming month and e-mailed his plans to his secretary. It was easy to pick dates, but he found it confusing to work out the hours of the day into the proper social events and meetings. Before getting ready for bed, he wrote a quick note for Ryou with reliable hotel stationary, informing him that they would be attending more sets to the west and how much he would be paid. That finished, Ryuuji considered himself accomplished and ready for sleep. He was irritated Ryou was taking so long in the bathroom.

"Mahout, could you at least hand me my hairbrush? It's still in the shower"

"You left it on your bed."

Ryuuji stepped back from the door and looked quickly at his bed. It didn't take him long to noticed the hairbrush and comb sitting innocently on the pillows, mocking him for being so unobservant. Why was Ryou always right? Ryuuji grumbled at the situation and slumped over to his suitcase. He was pretty sure at that moment there was no such thing as a positive approach and that his cookie, like the several before it and the rest he had yet to open, was full of shit.

---oooooooooooooo---

(1): Muwah, _Mahout_ lives ON. ::insane laughter:: I have an odd obsession with that word. XD

(2): Mou.... ::hides under a rock:: So, it bothered ME, at least! XP

**End Note:** Well, I'm hoping this fic with morph into a SetoRyuuji someday. That shows how organized I am. Don't ask about the title, I just kinda thought it sounded cool. ::shrugs:: I'm not worrying, though.

--Ling no Yong--


End file.
